A Fine, Fine, Line
by bipolar broadway baker
Summary: A get-together mush oneshot of our boys :) Sabriel companion oneshot soon-to-be-completed


**Prompt for WarblerChris! I hope you like it, this is only the Destiel half. **

** Enjoy!**

** I own nothing!**

Vampires were everywhere. Cas couldn't even fathom how they managed to get to Dean so fast, but the hunter was surrounded and bound to the support pole in the huge barn. Castiel's heart was pounding in his ears and he clenched his fists tight. It was all his fault, and Dean just looked so… broken, lying over there, propped up and tied tightly. He was bloody and slumped and out cold. His leather jacket was in a heap on the hay covered the ground. The blue (and very very red) button down that covered his once-white t-shirt and hung in tatters over his muscled frame. He was surrounded with three vamps- guards- holding lanterns that glowed dully and made Dean look ashen and pale. This was all his fault. Cas should've been watching, taking care of the hunter like he said he would.

They were in 1922, exploring somewhere down the Winchester line of the Horn of Gabriel. It had gone missing from Heaven and was wreaking havoc in the present. Sam had stayed behind with the archangel himself, but not before making Cas promise his brother would come home safe.

And he wasn't. he was bloody and broken all over where Cas couldn't make him better and- for some reason- that pain was more extreme than the idea of letting down their friends in the present.

He missed how Dean moved and talked with his rumbling voice, and how the freckles on his milk and honey skin jumped on the apples of his cheeks when he smiled…. The stretch of lips and the sparkle of his mossy green eyes. Cas honestly couldn't describe the intense feeling of just being with the hunter, just feeling his fierce determination and drive through everything he did made the angel's mind whirl and think strange things…

_"Sam? I believe I might be ill." The angel stated as he and Sam waited for Dean to get out of the shower on a recent hunt._

_ "What're you talking about? Can angels even get sick?"_

_ "We have our ailments, like all creatures. But this is unlike any sickness I've ever experienced…" the younger Winchester sat down curiously across from him on the motel room beds._

_ "Well, how do you feel?" _

_ "It's very strange: I get cold sweat on my palms and blood rushes to my cheeks and I can feel my grace pounding through my vessel accompanied by a warm, almost euphoric feeling…. And it only happens with your brother." He scowled in thought and looked at Sam. Was he…. Laughing at him? "I don't believe this to be laughable, Sam…"_

_ "Oh no, not at all…." He smiled "it's just…. Cas, that's how I got around Jess, and how I get around…. I think your sickness is love. "_

Love. In love with Dean. There was sure to be some kind of relationship between him and his charge, they shared a very profound bond. Bothe of the Winchesters were his…. Friends. His actual friends, and Dean was so strong and determined and hopelessly stubborn that Cas could rip his hair out sometimes. Was that love?

The vampires were starting to mill around as Castiel watched them and their prisoner from the rafters of the barn. He couldn't just go gallivanting into the throws of a vampire nest and save his- the- hunter below. He might be an angel, but the trip in time was crippling to his grace, and there wasn't much he could do besides smiting and short flights. He could die, and then there would be no hope at all, and Dean was good as lost. He swallowed around the lump that formed in his throat, and let himself slink into the shadows at the back of the barn.

There were five of them. Two by the huge wooden doors, and three surrounding Dean. He carefully evaluated his situation from his place under the cover of the loft, and crept forward.

Two by the door: Cas landed between the vamps with a flutter of wings, hands pressed with smiting force to their foreheads before they truly understood what was happening. The other three started forward in a whirl of movement: vampires were pack hunters, and they took humans down with wolf-like tactics. Cas kept his eyes focused on none of them, looking straight at Dean like he would will his eyes to open if he stared long enough. Within minutes, the vampires were on the floor sprawled around him.

"Who- who needs a machete when you've got… the power of God's M-magic Smitey Fingers…" came a croaking voice. His eyes were barely open a crack and he crumbled into a mad coughing fit. But dean was alive, and smiling at him with bloody teeth. Blood dripped down his face and oozed from the bite marks on his neck. He smirked, and Cas just stared back, not trusting his voice.

"H-hey Cas."

'Hello Dean."

It took several days for them to not only find the horn, but for Cas to get his Grace up enough to heal Dean and bring them home. He was about to press his fingers to Dean's forehead when the hunter grabbed his hand by the wrist, tightly at first, but loosened almost immediately. He knew he shouldn't lean into the touch, but Dean was warm and his hand gun-calloused.

"Wait."

"Dean?" he looked angry or confused or… scared? Cas tilted his head in concern, carefully observing the way the moss green eyes flicked around, but always settled back on him.

"I- Cas, I…." he cleared his throat- there was that determination- uncomfortably, haltingly moving his arm and dropping his hand to rest limply at his side. Cas tried not to pout at the loss of contact. "I never thanked you, ya know. For before, I should've had my guard up. I didn't think-'

Cas felt his scowl deepen "Dean, you couldn't have done anything. I should have been watching more carefully." Dean just dropped his eyes and looked down at his toes, shaking his head "Why do you still not believe you deserve to be saved?" Cas heard himself whisper as he tentatively rested his hand on Dean's jaw. He slowly drew the hunter up to look at him, trying to ignore the hopeless flip-flop in his chest. Dean looked shocked, but strangely mesmerized in a way that prevented him from pulling away from the angel.

'C-Cas…?" he whispered it, but Cas couldn't be bothered to respond, too busy focusing on how perfectly Dean's lips formed his name. Dean was so beautiful, and cas gently took his other hand and ran it over Dean's shoulder to his waist. The muscle flexed and twitched under his touch, but he didn't protest to Castiel's hold on him. The hunter even seemed to be… leaning closer to him. His eyes flickering from eyes to lips over and over.

The hunter's lips were soft and warm as they brushed against his, and his hand slid up to cup Dean's cheek as he moved flush against him, standing in the dark hotel room they'd been staying in. He felt the butterflies whirling in his stomach but also felt them melt away as Dean gripped onto his waist and pulled him tighter. Cas's skin tingled lightly on his hipbones as Dean squeezed them gently and kept him close as he separated their lips.

"Cas…." He breathed, opening his heavily lidded eyes and smiling with more genuine happiness than Castiel had ever seen. He felt his grace thrum through him at the fact that he put that happiness there. He wasn't sick.

He was in love.


End file.
